I went through the list over the course of the day, narrowing down candidates for each position until I’d lined up all his interviews for the next few days. He’d be squeezing some of them between meetings with the label and signed appearances and sound checks, but that wasn’t my problem. The busier he was, the less time I’d have to spend with him. The less chance of him and I running into each other.
The less chance there was to catch those stubborn feelings that never had fully faded.
I must’ve passed out at my desk, because when I came to, it was to the sound of insistent knocking at my door, soft but with intent. Shaking the grogginess from my head, I rose from the chair, hands resting on the back of the wooden door as I opened it a crack to find not Jun, not his daughter, but Pujin, his head of security.
“I’m sorry, miss, I didn’t mean to disturb,” he said slowly, bowing at the waist. “But Mr. Kim said I needed to ask you about getting a spare key for myself for the premises and such.”
“Mmm, yes, right,” I mumbled, swiping tiredly at my eyes. “Have a seat at the desk and I’ll grab the paperwork the company sent over for you to sign, as well.”
“Killing two birds with one stone,” he muttered, his huge frame taking up a fair bit of my desk chair. Hell, if the man were any bigger, he’d need a second chair to hold him. And he was all muscle, too. A tank.
A good choice for head of security. He’d be a hell of a deterrent to crazed fans, paparazzi, and overeager media and press.
“So, Pujin, was it?” I asked as I loaded up the contract he’d already discussed with the company’s lawyers on my tablet. “How long have you been with Mr. Kim?”
“He hired me on when Yejin was one,” the burly man answered, his eyes skimming the screen I handed him. “I’ve been responsible for their safety ever since then, though my priority has always been Miss Kim.”
“Mmm. Good. Then he trusts you immensely.”
“I suppose so.” His eyes lifted from the screen momentarily. “Forgive me for speaking out if I shouldn’t, but I sense you and Mr. Kim are familiar with each other.”
I wasn’t sure how to take that. “I interned with his debut band when he signed with SeoulSOUL eight or nine years ago.” The safest answer, and one that didn’t give anything away. “I had no idea the company here was interested in him, though, so his joining our label was a shock to me.”
Pujin handed me the tablet, then smiled softly, as if he knew more than he was letting on. “You’ve come a long way from that internship, I see.”
“Worked damn hard to get where I am.” Spite, anger, and self-hatred were great motivators. “It’s no walk in the park, but I like my job.”
“I am glad we can both be happy in the choices we’ve made, career-wise.”
I reached into my bag as he made small talk, grabbing the envelope that contained his key to the main house, a paper with the passcodes for the security system, and a copy of his contract. His smile never wavered as he accepted it with a nod.
“There’s a fully outfitted suite in the basement. There’s a card on file with the local supply stores, should you like to alter your residence. Any equipment you need for your job, feel free to purchase it and have it delivered here any time. If you’re unable to stay and sign for it, I can call in a temp or intern to be here to receive packages.”
“Thank you, ma’am. If you need anything, please feel free to let me know.”
When Pujin had left, I no sooner had grabbed a change of clothes and bathroom supplies than another knock sounded at the door. I assumed Pujin had returned with a question, so I didn’t bother asking who was there before I answered the door.
Of course, it was Yejin. She was all smiles as she stared up at me from the floor, holding something in her left hand that looked suspiciously like Jun’s debut microphone.
“Hello, Miss,” she said in flawless English, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “I’m Yejin.”
I looked at her outstretched hand in awe. Here I was, face to face with my daughter, for fuck’s sake, and I couldn’t bring myself to my senses enough to shake her hand.
Thankfully, before I had a complete meltdown, Pujin came up the stairs, his eyes widening as he found Yejin standing in the hall before my room.
“Miss Yejin, you shouldn’t be bothering your father’s new manager,” he said sternly, scooping her up from the floor in a hurry. “My apologies, miss. I will ensure she leaves you alone so you can work in peace.”
“Oh, she’s no bother,” I assured him, afraid I might forget how to talk again if I looked her in her eyes. “Just curious, I’m sure.”
“Here,” Yejin said suddenly, holding out the microphone for me to take. My hand moved of its own accord, and I accepted the heavy equipment from the little girl with a smile. “My daddy doesn’t know I had this. Can you sneak it back to him so I don’t get yelled at?”
“Sure,” I muttered, staring down at the jeweled handle, remembering how proud he’d been when the company let the group pick out their own colors for the hand mics.It’s the color of your eyes,he’d said with a laugh, holding it up beside my head for comparison.Now it’ll be like I’ve got a piece of you with me when I’m on stage.
A piece of you.
Now, he had more than one piece of me.
When Pujin had successfully carted Yejin off to her room, I slinked down the hall, hoping against hope that Jun was occupied with other things, and I wouldn’t get caught in the act of sneaking into his room.
